Of Steamed Cabbages and Ancient Kings
by Kyllikki
Summary: Talking to doors isn't always as crazy as it first appears.


Of Steamed Cabbages and Ancient Kings  
by Kyllikki  
  
Summary: Sometimes talking to doors isn't as insane as it first appears.  
  
****************************  
Halfway through the final tape of "Pride and Prejudice" -- a vastly underrated New Year's tradition, she thought -- the peace of Jordan's afternoon was shaken by an insistent knock. Grumbling at the intrusion, she crawled out of her cocoon of blankets and padded over to the door, hitting the stop button on the remote en route.   
  
"Yes?" she called.  
  
"Jordan? It's Drew Haley." His voice was unmistakable, though a bit muffled by the intervening panel of wood.  
  
"Um....hi," she said through the door.  
  
Long pause.  
  
"So you gonna let me in, or what?"  
  
"Depends."  
  
"On what?"  
  
"On why you're here."  
  
"Look, I got called up to the Boston field office for a consult on last night. Thought I'd stick my head in and say hi before I headed back down to D.C."  
  
"The FBI works on New Year's Eve?"  
  
"What, you're telling me stiffs don't show up in your morgue on national holidays?"  
  
"Yeah, but I just figured the Feds would get the evening off or something."  
  
"Most people do."  
  
Pause.  
  
"So, Haley, remind me why you're here?"  
  
"I just stopped by to say hi."  
  
"Oh. Hi, then."  
  
"I seem to recall covering the greeting thing already."  
  
"Well, you've achieved your stated goal. Was there something else you wanted?"  
  
"Yeah. Can I come in?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm tired of talking to a door, not to mention that it's the generally accepted social custom to invite a friend in when he appears on one's threshold."  
  
"So we're friends now?"  
  
He laughed dryly. "We slept together."  
  
"We were tired."  
  
"Still, you don't strike me as the kind of girl who sleeps with people she's not friends with."  
  
"Don't you mean, 'with whom she's not friends'?"  
  
"Look, Jordan, this is fascinating. Really it is. But wouldn't you rather be having this convoluted nightmare of a conversation sitting on the couch?"  
  
"On the couch, huh? How do you know I have a couch?"  
  
"Why wouldn't you have a couch?"  
  
"Isn't there something in your profile that would tell you whether or not I have a couch?"  
  
"Believe it or not, possession of a couch -- or lack thereof -- isn't exactly one of the key factors we look for in profiling."  
  
"So you're saying you don't know?"  
  
"Don't know what?"  
  
"Whether or not I have a couch."  
  
"No, but I'd be willing to find out with my own eyes if you'd let me come in."  
  
Pause.  
  
"How'd you know I would be home?"  
  
"I didn't."  
  
"You just stopped by in case I wasn't out partying with my friends?"  
  
"What friends?"  
  
"Dammit, Haley, that's harsh."  
  
"Look, Jordan, neither of us is exactly a social butterfly. I was in town, thought I'd take a chance, and looked you up."  
  
"And if I weren't home, what would you have done?"  
  
"Probably the same thing I'm doing now."  
  
"Having a conversation with a door?"  
  
"A state of affairs you could easily remedy by opening it."  
  
"Oh, but we're having so much fun!"  
  
"Jesus, Jordan, do you get your kicks by messing with people's heads?"  
  
"I thought that was your department."  
  
Long pause.  
  
"Haley? You still there?"  
  
No response.   
  
"Haley?"  
  
Silence.  
  
Concerned, she opened the door and peeked out. She was met with a jar of sauerkraut stuck in her face. She turned to the left and stared into the leering face of Drew Haley.   
  
"Gotcha." He grinned.  
  
Jordan growled wordlessly.  
  
"Good ol' Trojan Horse works every time."  
  
"The Greeks used the horse to get *into* Troy, not to lure the Trojans out of it," she grumped.  
  
"Whatever. The principle's still the same. Anyway, I brought you a present." He placed the jar of sauerkraut in her hands.  
  
"Gee, Drew, most guys would bring wine."  
  
"Not on New Year's Day, they wouldn't."  
  
"Okay, fine. You win. Now are you coming in or what?" She grinned at him in spite of herself, and pushed the door open so he could enter.  
  
Still rooted in place, he returned her grin. "Depends."   
  
"On what?"  
  
"Can I sit on your couch?"  
  
  
***finis***  
  
Happy New Year, everyone. :)  
  
  
12.30.2001 


End file.
